


If this body were your own

by Perlumi



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Do Not Archive, F/F, Horror, Mind Control, Spiders, fanfic of a fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 08:12:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17362298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perlumi/pseuds/Perlumi
Summary: When faced with a choice, Emily finds herself unable to run away from Annabelle, and the web she has her trapped in.[Alternate Ending for the fanfiction "Through love and terror" by Nelja-in-English]





	If this body were your own

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nelja-in-English (Nelja)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelja/gifts).



> I can't believe I actually wrote something for the fandom! And as you can see, it's all thanks to Nelja, because this fic is only loosely tied to the main TMA plot, and entirely tied to her fic, "Through love and terror", that you can find on her profile, Nelja-in-English. If I learn how to link stuff, I will put a link ^^'
> 
> Obviously, I can only advise you to read her fic before mine if you want to make sense of what happens here. Sorry in advance if there are mistakes I didn't catch, I don't have a beta ^^
> 
> Now, a message to Nelja: I really, but like, REALLY, hope I did justice to your amazing OC, and your wonderful fic. I dearly hope you will enjoy reading this at least half as much as I enjoy your fics. You remain one of my biggest inspirations <3

No matter how much she thinks about it, Emily doesn't believe she would have been capable of acting any differently when Annabelle first showed up on her doorstep. It's not just because of her obvious crush on Annabelle, though it is part of it ; she thinks a part of her just wanted to understand what really happened that night, and this was the only way she was ever going to get some answers.

Sticking to the truth, even when said truth is horrifying, Emily finds, is strangely comforting. Sure, her whole life is in shambles, but at least she knows why, and she understands now that there is a higher power involved, something she could never win against. 

Her life settles into a strange kind of routine that is not a routine at all. Emily is trapped inside her own home while Annabelle roams the city, searching for the other students who took part in the experiment. Annabelle leaves early and hunts for the better part of the day. When she comes home, her lips always taste strange. Emily doesn't stop kissing her.

Emily spends the first few days encased in invisible web, chained to her own bed. It weights nothing, yet it makes her whole body feel sluggish, and she can't muster the strength to fight back against her invisible shackles, that disappear as soon as Annabelle comes back. 

It leaves her a lot of time to think. Too much time, probably.

She thinks of running away. She could wait until Annabelle lets her guard down, hit her with the broken cupboard door that she's never cared to fix, take her papers with her and flee the house to never come back. She could set fire to it, claim an accident. Would Annabelle leave a body behind, or would it all go out in flames ?

But this is not a serious plan. She doesn't want to hurt Annabelle, let alone kill her. She spent too much time worrying for her, she would be utterly unable of betraying her own feelings like this.

These terrible, treacherous feelings which only grow and grow as the days pass. Her heart flutters everytime Annabelle touches her, and Emily drinks in every look, every smile, only to replay them in her head once the day comes and she's left alone and trapped in her own home.

The days pass in a haze, and she wonders if somebody has noticed her absence from university yet. If she manages to free herself from the spider's grasp, will she be able to come back to her old life ? She worries already about how she might justify all her absences, worries about the bills that are surely piling up in her mailbox. These, she tries her hardest to believe, are her true moments of clarity.

But then Annabelle kisses her and she thinks of nothing, and though she is trapped she has never tasted a freedom such as this. 

Annabelle has too many eyes, too many limbs, touches her with soft, soft legs and sharp needle claws that leave thin marks on her body. Emily closes her eyes, let desire wash over her, and she doesn't know if the gnawing feeling deep in her belly is fear or arousal.

The invisible thread holding her back disappears suddenly when she wakes up one day, and Emily tiptoes around her own house, waits for the trick. Her home hasn't changed. There are not even as many cobwebs as she might have expected. She doesn't see any spiders.

She fixes herself a quick lunch, surprised to find food in the fridge. She could use this time to work over an escape plan, but she knows that she cannot leave the house, so she doesn't bother. (or maybe she's too scared of what might happen if she decides to do so.)

Instead, she bakes cookies. She doesn't even know if Annabelle needs to eat, but she bakes them hoping to share them with her.

Ananbelle says nothing when she comes home that night, merely quirks a brow. She doesn't touch the cookies, tastes them directly on Emily's lips, the moment so sweet and everything Emily has ever hoped for that she almost doesn't cry when she feels the spiders scurrying on her arm.

The day after, when Annabelle is already gone for the day, Emily goes to her front door and opens it. The answer was there from the start. Nothing was stopping her from going outside and running away, nothing but her own expectations. 

The doorknob feels cold in her hand, and she hesitantly takes a step outside, her bare feet on the freezing ground. This is her chance.

She stands on the edge for the longest time, and though her body isn't moving she feels like she is slowly walking upon a thin thread of web, ready to fall down at each passing second.

Emily walks back into her house, closes the door, and breaks down crying.

She has never been able to make choices. 

"I can't do this," she bitterly admits when Annabelle opens the door, eight eyes trained on her pitiful human form prostrated on the floor.

Annabelle embraces her and gently cooes at her, strange limbs probing at her, stroking her to calm her down. Emily hears the breathless happiness in her voice when she finally talks. 

"You don't have to do anything. Let me take care of you. Let us free you."

The last thing Emily remembers is the impossible feeling of something prying her head open, and silk-like thread making itself at home right against her brain. 

*

"I'm making waffles. Do you want yours with sugar or mapple sirup ?"

The strangest thing about the impossible is that when it does happen, suddenly you don't bother trying to make sense of anything.

Annabelle hums a song Emily doesn't know as she cooks. She is wearing yesterday's shirt and a pair of panties that belong to Emily, and moves around like she owns the place. Maybe she does now, actually. Emily hasn't really thought to check.

"We have mapple sirup ?" she asks instead, because last she knew, she definitely doesn't keep mapple sirup in the house. 

"Top left cupboard, right behind the teabags box."

And sure enough, there's a brand new bottle of mapple sirup. There is also a spider, cozy in its web, looking right at Emily, and she wants to scream in surprise and drop the bottle, except her hands are steady, and her mouth won't open. 

It should have been enough for her to understand, but she doesn't look at the signs. She just prides herself for not overreacting for once, and she closes the cupboard door. 

Her heart rate only increases when Annabelle slides a hand along her waist, and it's not fright that has her shuddering ever so slightly.

They sit at the table and eat their waffles like it's something they do on lazy weekends when they don't want to go out. Annabelle's foot nudges Emily's leg, in a playful, teasing sort of way. The scene is so domestic. Emily has never lived with a girlfriend before, but that's exactly how she imagines what living with a lover could be like. 

"So," Annabelle finally says, licking a drop of sirup stranded on her thumb. "You should probably start going to university again. We don't want people bothering you because you missed classes."

Emily nods, because what else can she do ? She knows perfectly well she doesn't have a choice. Something about it thrills her. A spider makes its way on the table, between the empty plates, the glasses and the crumbs. Annabelle picks it up gently in the palm of her hand, closes her hand for a second. When she opens it again, the spider has disappeared. Another kind of magic trick. Emily doesn't want to know the truth behind it.

*

University hasn't changed. She hasn't been gone for so long. Maybe, what, two weeks at most ? She takes a deep breath before going to the secretary office. A friend had told her that for repeated absences it's better to go plead your case in person rather than by mail. She doesn't want to do it, as awkward with basic human interaction as she is, but she needs to do it. And then again with each one of her professors. She chose a bland cover story, the only kind she's capable of coming up with, and hopes it will convince them well enough.

Her hands are clammy, and she claps them together to prevent them from shaking. Then, as the secretary asks her what she is there for, she loses control. Literally. 

She starts to stutter, an annoying habit that's hard to die, and the next second she's perfectly fine. Words come out of her mouth, using her vocal cords, her tongue, but she's not speaking. Her mind is still freaking out, still panicking over the details of her story, but her body smiles, sweet and apologetic. Whatever is controlling her does a fine job at playing the model student, who is terribly sorry to have missed so many classes. 

At the end of the day, she feels lighter than ever. The teachers were all understanding enough, and two of them promised to leave her some more time to get back on track. The walk back home is peaceful. This, she realizes, is her right place in the world. 

She kisses Annabelle on the lips when the other girl gets home, of her own volution. Then, her body picks up her phone, unlocks it, and she knows exactly what she's searching for. The old group chat for the experiment. The projectors had made it in case one of them coudn't make it to the session one day, and it was still here, certainly more of a clue to finding the others than whatever Annabelle has been working with. Emily's body hands Annabelle the phone, and new pairs of eyes pop up on her crush's face. They're lovely, a hypnotizing mix of green, blue and black. They blink all at once, and Annabelle chuckles.

"See ? We make a great team. Don't worry about the rest."

Emily knows that the projectors are all going to die. A part of her panicks, because it's her fault, she just handed the information over to Annabelle, what did she _do_  !

But her frantic thoughts don't translate over to her body. She cuddles up against Annabelle on the couch, that is softer than ever now that it's covered in spider web. She feels tired. She knows that there is something deeply wrong with her, today just proved it, but she can't bring herself to ask. She knows she won't like the answer. Annabelle traces random patterns on her skin with her fingers, or her legs, whatever. It lulls her to sleep.

She knows that as long as she doesn't question it, everything is going to be alright.

*

The semester is over before she knows it. Whenever she feels discouraged, something pushes her to work anyway, and it pays. Some classmates pull her aside after the exams, ask her if she knows what she wants to specialize in now, and usually it's the kind of question that scares her, because she hates choices, she hates thinking that there's a chance of answering wrong. Now it's easy though. The thing that forces her to do things has everything planned out for her. It's okay. She can relax and enjoy the ride.

*

Twice, she picks up her phone to contact a projector from the failed experiment. It's a simple matter of sending a message, saying that she needs someone to talk to who could understand. In both cases, it works. They meet at a local coffee shop. Once she arrives there, though, she doesn't order anything. She waits for them to arrive, and when she spots them she knows what to do. 

A simple hug, a handshake, whatever human contact she can get. Tiny spiders crawl from her hands to theirs, disappearing under their skin. 

"Let's go." She simply says, and they don't fight, just nod.

She still doesn't know for sure what it is that Annabelle, and the spiders for that matter, do with them. It's not her role. She has the distant feeling that should she discover it, it would be over for her too, so she doesn't pry. 

Being the lure should be tedious. Horrifying. Disgusting. Instead Emily feels strangely hollow. She doesn't care about these people. They don't care about Annabelle like she does, they couldn't possibly understand. 

The first prey caught to her lure, she brings to Annabelle. She is rewarded with a quick peck on the lips, and Annabelle cheerfully runs off with the vacant eyed man she brought. When she comes home a few hours later, she smells faintly of blood. Emily doesn't ask, just takes Annabelle's hand in her own, guides her to the kitchen table, where she cooked a nice meal for two. The only thought in Emily's mind when Annabelle doesn't eat is that at least, they will have plenty of leftovers for later.

A few weeks later, she catches her second prey -and it's too easy, really-. Maybe it's because Emily is so calm, finds it so easy to laugh and smile and acts as normal as she ought to, but they trust her, don't hesitate to answer to whatever contact she initiates. Emily is terrified and content. The woman with the long brown hair and round glasses blinks slowly, then looks at Emily expectantly.

At first, Emily wants to bring her to Annabelle, like she did before. But then she feels a tug, and her whole body turns in the direction she needs to get to. She doesn't fight the feeling. It's easier, after all, when she knows what to do. 

Most people don't like being told what to do. And sure, Emily was like every child, she refused to eat her carrots and tidy up her room, no matter what she was ordered to do. But as she became an adult, she started founding the weight of responsabilities too much for her. 

How can you be expected to be yourself when you must answer to the consequences of your acts ? There's no such think as acting freely when you spend every second fearing every single choice you have to make.

Emily follows the thoughts whispered to her. It's easy. It's freeing. The projector follows right behind her, not empty minded yet, but already lacking the willpower to fight back.

They arrive in front of a vacant house. It's a bit run down, but not so much worse for wear that it looks out of place in the district. Emily stops dead in her tracks, and she knows. Oh, how she knows, intimately so, that she is right where she ought to be. 

There is no more place for hesitation. She is obeying something greater than her. The projector's eyes fill with fear, like she is starting to wake up and knows that something bad is going to happen. Emily only smiles, pushes her towards the house.

"Don't forget to knock," she whispers sweetly. 

The woman walks up to the front door and knocks. Two quick knocks against the heavy wood, and it creaks open, just enough that Emily can see long, thin legs pouring out the house. There are so many of them, and they all look so wrong.

The projector doesn't have the time to scream. The limbs catch her and the door closes swiftly.

Emily wants to run. For once, she even thinks of fleeing the city, run until Annabelle and the spiders can't find her again.

Of course, her body is locked into place. She stands alone in the street, and nobody passes by.

She waits. It's the only thing she can do, though her nails dig into the palm of her hands, a distant pain that reminds her that it's all in her mind, she just needs to order her legs to move. She can't.

If she were to run, where would she go ? There would be no one to tell her what to do anymore.

At long last, just as her eyes begin to fill with tears, because Annabelle was _right_ , Emily doesn't really want to leave the comforting web she's trapped in, she knows it's time.

She walks up to the door, takes a deep breath, and enters. She doesn't knock. After all, she is expected.

The room is filled with spider web. There's a table and a few chairs, but other than that, the room is bare. The only ornament is the flower bouquet on the table -but the flowers are long dead. 

There is another door that looks exactly like the one she came in through, but on the opposite wall. It's tinged with a brownish red, and there are weird splatters of red on the floor around it, too. Blood. 

Finally, Emily brings herself to look at the sole occupant of the room. The large spider has a bloated abdomen, and thin, absurdly long legs that move in a strange pattern. On his head a red hat matches the red spots covering his face and body. He has no mouth, but his eyes move on his face, so Emily imagines he can make it appear as it pleases him.

"Be my guest," the spider says, a leg pointing out to the chair closest to Emily.

She sits down, her hands immediately clutching the fabric of her shirt, anything to keep herself from shaking.

The spider seems to notice, though, because his eyes crinkle like he's laughing.

"You're a strange one", the creature says after a long time. "I can certainly see why you called to Us. But your kind doesn't usually survive so long, no. Or at least, not in this condition." He chuckles, and Emily feels like she is missing out on some joke.

"Am I going to die ?" she asks, because suddenly it seems like a very real possibility. The idea of dying seems strange. Dying means not seeing Annabelle anymore. Dying is the ultimate freedom. But she has become used to the freedom It granted her, and finds herself reluctant to leave it.

"Not yet. You can still be useful. Eventually, we will dispose of you. But you don't have to die."

As he says this, one of his legs touches Emily's face, and she wants to scream. She understands why the black spider looks so fuzzy now. She can see hundreds of tiny spiders crawling all over it, scurrying along the legs, the abdomen, probably the face too. She has never been so scared.

She wants to beg and cry and break down, and ultimately she feels a great gratitude for whatever is controlling her. Her mind is still frantic, but her body relaxes, and soon she recalls that she doesn't have to fight. Everything will be taken care of, if only she can see the peace of mind that awaits her as she slowly succombs to the hypnotic eyes of the spider.

Spiders crawl on her body, leaving threads of web all over her. The giant spider senses her terror, seems to drink it in. His legs are still weaving, weaving. Shaping her future, making all the choices for her. 

…

She can't wait to see Annabelle again.

*

Emily lays in bed with Annabelle. They are both naked, and sweat runs down Emily's back. Still breathless, she leans her head against Annabelle's shoulder, her eyes taking in her lover's body, the tantalizing breasts, the softness of her curves. The sheets are covered in web.

"I met a spider today. He was wearing a red hat."

"Hm ?" Annabelle sounds unconcerned. "That's great. Mr. Spider never lets the unworthy go. Congratulations for making it out."

Emily feels her throat contract. Annabelle knew she could have died, and she didn't try to stop it. She is happy that Emily survived in the same way that she is happy after a successful hunt, or after seeing a huge spider take down a wasp. Deep down, she already knows that Annabelle doesn't reciprocate Emily's feelings, but to have proof of it is different. 

"I... I'm not sure I can do this."

She had said this already, a lifetime ago. 

Annabelle laughs, the prettiest sound Emily has ever heard.

"Don't worry, dear. I already told you, _you don't have to do anything_."

_As long as you just let us use you_ , goes unsaid. 

Emily shivers. If she concentrates, she can feel something under her skin, thousands of tiny spiders making themselves at home in her body -if this is even her body at all. Maybe she's just some kind of tolerated co host. When they don't need her anymore, they will throw her out.

She's trapped, and she will never be able to run away. In the depth of what's left of her mind, she knows she doesn't want this, never wanted this awful situation. 

But she knows, too, that what she wants doesn't matter.

It's the only thought that frees her from the guilt she feels. It's okay. She'll make it through. She doesn't need to fight. If only she can stop worrying, then she can be free. She should have faith in Annabelle's words. The spiders will take care of everything. 

Her mouth feels enough like her own when she kisses Annabelle ; for now, it's the only thing that matters, she tells herself as she clings to Annabelle like she clings to the web she is trapped in.


End file.
